Effie's nightmare
by NotAThatGoodAWriter
Summary: Hayffie fluff fic; Haymitch has always been a victim of the nightmares, but since the her capture Effie is beginning to feel his pain.


Dark. Haymitch never could sleep in the dark; Katniss had always wondered whether it was because he was still afraid of what lurked in it, which would probably explain the knife too. No, he spent most of his nights saturating himself with drink, eventually sleeping through the day. As he did now, lapping up the last drops of liquor and feeling his eyes grow heavy with the morning sun, Haymitch leaned back into his armchair.

Upstairs in his bedroom, among the abandoned heaps of clothes lying curled up in the sheets slept Effie. After the rebellion she lost the ability to sleep properly, finally realising Haymitch's pain; the nightmares of her capture haunted her, tormented her in her sleep, she could no longer face the darkness. The thin trickle of a scar that ran from her temple to her brow had been fixed up to be as thin as a strand of hair, but still it throbbed with pain;

She looked down; she was cuffed to rusting chains that held her to the wall, felt the sticky but steady flow of blood down the side of her face. Her hair and clothes unchanged since her capture and thick with dirt, blood, and sweat. Her ankles and wrists red with sores from the cuffs she wore. She looked around, she knew the room well. Dank and dark with a sliver of a window letting in little precious light, this was a terrible place, and Effie began to feel herself shake. _It's not real_ she mumbled to herself but her voice was cracking with the fear she could no longer contain and her tears mingled with the blood on her face. The door crashed open making her jump, two tall dark figures entered and she scrambled to the back wall but it was useless, they were coming, and there was nowhere for Effie to run. She huddled over herself and cried, shaking still; then felt the harsh sting of needles, the cruel force of their punches and kicks, rolling her over and beating whatever it was they wanted from her. The rebellion was long over, the information they desired beyond use, and she knew it wasn't real, that they weren't real. But that didn't stop them from torturing her. And it didn't stop her from screaming.

Screaming. Haymitch sprang up thrashing his knife in the air and letting it find the arm of the sofa, he was awake; and this was the real world, not so much to be afraid of here. He reassured himself of those facts; but still the screaming persisted. Frantic and hollow and agonising. "Effie…" he muttered. He leapt from his chair and flew through the hallway and up the stairs shouting for her louder and louder with each step. "EFFIE?!" he screamed down the hall as he ran for his bedroom, flinging open the door there she lay writhing on the bed screaming and crying. He threw his knife to the floor and darted for the bed, sitting down beside her he shook her shoulders, shouting for her. Nothing, she was deep in the nightmare. His face twisted with her pain. He took her hand, stroked it and whispered to her, a lump rising in his throat, the beginnings of tears forming in his eyes "Effie, Eff, it's ok. Everything's alright, I'm here now, sweetheart." Her screams began to subside and her eyes began to open, blinking away the tears to find a blurry vision of her world, but her mind was still deep in the nightmare. He cupped her face with its delicate features in his other hand and leaned down to her, pressing his forehead gently against hers "No-one's going to hurt you, now. Because I won't let them, ok?" he swallowed hard past the lump in his throat and waited, stroking her cheek, and eventually the screams stopped completely. Her eyes widened at the sight of him. Effie threw herself up from the bed, cold sweat dampening her skin, and locked her arms around his neck, holding on for dear life. "Haymitch" she sighed, her voice still shaking and horse and full of fear. He held her in his arms as she tightened hers around him, Haymitch softly stroked her hair and calmed her till her body eventually relaxed, but they held onto each other still.

They sat like this until Effie felt so weak she had to lie back down again, her body felt numb and tired and she curled herself up in a ball under the covers. Haymitch rested a hand on her leg and looked down at her lithe, feeble, shaking form; and with a soft and frightened glance of those sapphire eyes Effie begged him to stay. He eased back the covers and climbed in with her, letting her bury her head into his chest, she clung to him and gently drifted back to sleep; the soft rise and fall of his chest lulling her. Haymitch rested a hand lightly on her head and laid his head down, both completely content they slept through the day, protecting each other from the deafening nightmares of the night.

Entwined in each other they rested in the knowledge that they were not alone, that someone else felt there pain, that they were there for each other in the dark times. Haymitch had always thought that Effie was strong, stronger than the rest of them. He would always love her but never accept that she could ever need him, but she did, more than he could know. He lay beneath her feeling complete. Useful. Worthy. And Effie had always known the sarcastic and generally unhelpful Haymitch, but now he was as vulnerable as she, and despite that he would never let anyone hurt her. His Effie. She would always love him and promised herself silently to be there for him as he was for her, and prove her own worthiness as soon as she got the chance.

And they lay there content in the knowledge that they were made for each other.


End file.
